Echoes of the Dead People live everyday. Coping with their needs. People die everyday. Just as fast as weeds. People always fear the dead. Afraid of what theyre capable of. Lightly they will tread. Watching from above. Fear will consume them. Along with greed, power, and disloyalty. Holding on by just the hem. Thinking they are royalty. The selfish always die. Getting what they deserve. They will continue to cry. For they never chose a Lord to serve. Only some show regrets. While others believe they are righteous. Just as fast as jets. They will think they are one of us. Though we are innocent. They will frame us. They think we arent worth a cent. So they will always throw a fuss. Even in death, They continue to fight. Without a single breath, Using all their might. Their force more dangerous than others. While they search for what they lost. They dont act as if they have brothers, They spend without looking at the cost. Using their ghost form, They manipulate mankind. The results are a storm. Then everyone is in a bind. Some scream and shout. Others with dangerous whispers. They take different routes. Using different sisters. The innocent is confused. Lost and walking. They havent refused. But they keep on moaning. Many can hear. The sounds of the shadows. The end may be near. For life isnt rainbows. The shadows are hidden. Never to be seen. Seeing them is forbidden. Because they are too keen. Though the dead arent in sight. They can always be heard. They dont bite. But their words are slurred. Even if they were pinned. Their words cannot be read. As they drift across the wind. They are called the Echoes of the Dead.
Posted on: Mon, 17 Mar 2014 04:20:32 +0000
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